Yoru no Ikimono
by Xovinx
Summary: What we are is not who we were. And the idea that only the vilest of beings become what we are... is a lie we need to correct. These are our tales. We, who are creatures of the night. (In-progress. A series of individual Bleach-universe short stories, connected by a common idea. Rated for violence.)
1. Junichi

_1942_

Junichi leaned over the edge of the warship, allowing the wind to sooth his skin. This war was slowly grinding on his determination, even more so with the losses the Japanese fleet had suffered in recent months.

His thoughts were always on turning back home these days, alone as he was on the ocean with his battered ship and fellow crew. A faint smile traced his lips as he thought of Aiko, the beautiful young woman who was waiting for him back home. She had promised… when he returned, when the war was over…

He remembered distinctly the last time he had seen her. His parents, his little brother, they were there too. His father had been so proud, Koichi had been trying to be proud, too, but barely able to keep the waver out of his voice when they said farewell. His mother had nearly crushed him with her hug, and Aiko had just stood there and smiled through her tears.

When you return… she had promised. And he had promised to return. He'd never rest if he died in this war, and he was determined not to let that happen. He'd survive and come home to her, see her smile again, touch her face…

He would not let himself face the grim truth. The Japanese Empire was losing their part of this war.

The United States had beaten the Imperial Fleet in numerous clashes on the ocean, and there was always the danger of enemy aircraft sinking a Japanese ship before they even engaged the opposing ships. The danger facing Junichi was very real. He just won't let himself acknowledge it.

_I will come home to you, Aiko._

...

Aiko knelt down at the shrine, pressing her hands together and bowing her head. The same phrase repeated itself again and again in her head, the same one she had been praying for two years.

_Bring my Junichi safely back to me._

Sometimes there were different versions of the same prayer, sometimes she added a little bit at the end, sometimes she simply said _him_, but each day it was the same.

_Bring him back to me._

_Bring him back safe._

_Bring Junichi home again…_

She knelt at the shrine until the sun began to set behind her, and as the shadows crept away from the shrine she stood up and walked back down the path towards the city. She wondered for a moment, looking out at the ocean that hid him, if it really mattered, but then she shook her head hard and kept walking. She had to believe that her prayers meant something, that they were reaching him somehow and giving him strength, that the spirits were watching over him. Otherwise, it was nothing she could do for him.

Koichi was waiting for her at the base of the hill, the young man looking slightly awkward in the gathering dusk. He escorted her to and from the shrine each day, even though he was a bit of a scardy-cat. He was always worrying about Yokai, and despite the fact they had never encountered one he still worried. It touched her, every time, that he would come despite his fear to make sure she was safe.

"Thank you," she would say, and Koichi would chuckle.

"I couldn't have Jun-nii come home and find out you were eaten by a Yokai. He'd kill me."

Koichi was convinced his brother was coming back. Aiko had never meet anyone else so completely deluded that everything would work out for everyone, just so long as they were careful. His unwavering faith made her feel better as they walked slowly back home.

_1945_

Junichi looked down at the city that had once been his home. A hard knot in his chest and throat made every breath painful, and his vision blurred as tears again threatened.

He couldn't stop them, not this time. He had when he had first heard the news, certain that there had to be a mistake. It couldn't be gone, it wasn't possible. The cities had been safe from the war, it was the _soldiers_ who were at risk, who would die. Not civilians.

Not their families.

The tears spilled down his cheeks, tracing paths in ash and dust that had settled over him. He stood in the ruin of Hiroshima, regardless of the warnings. The deadly explosion that had torn his family and heart from him had occurred… weeks ago? Was it only weeks ago? But there was danger of radiation still, however long ago it might have been. He didn't care. Aiko was dead, Koichi was dead, his parents were dead…

Aiko was dead.

His scream of agony rose from the ruined city, heart-wrenching and harsh. Tears dripped into the ash beneath him, turning it dark.

He hadn't cried for years. Pain didn't phase him, not even when his arm had been ruined in battle on the Philippine Sea. But the pain from this loss was of a scale he had never faced, and he couldn't bear it. He knelt in the ashes of his old life, the life where he had had a woman he loved, a family that cared about him, and cried his heart out.

All of it, gone. In one, horrible instant.

Such destruction was beyond the realm of mankind. It shouldn't exist.

...

Junichi died of starvation and the infection from his poorly amputated arm less then a week later, still kneeling in the center of Hiroshima where the bombing had taken place. He was hardly aware he had died, he merely spent another sleepless night alone with his broken heart and ailing body, and the next morning the sun came up to reveal his slumped body on the ground, a broken chain trailing from the chest of his hunched, weeping soul. Other people surrounded him, other victims of the attack that had been unable to pass on. And above them black-robed warriors battled fiercely with white-masked monsters, desperately trying to protect the crying souls below.

_I'll wait for you._

The memory finally returned to him as he realized what had happened. He looked at his body, looked around at the spirits all around, and hope bloomed in his heart for a moment.

_I'll be here when this war is over_.

She had died here, his parents had died here, and so had he. And here he was.

_I'll be here…_

"Aiko…" he breathed, and stood, despite the difficulty he had breathing and moving. His chain swayed as he carefully began to make his way through the scattered spirits, looking desperately for the one he needed, more then anyone else, to see again.

See again… speak to again… touch again…

Slowly, as he continued walking and searching, his breathing began to come easier, and movement became less difficult. He was glad for this, it would be hard enough finding one person in this wide crowd of some thousands, he didn't need more handicaps. He hardly noticed that his arm was back now, or that he didn't feel hungry or weak any more. He simply searched.

And searched.

The battle continued to rage above him, and down on his level wandering souls continued to cry and wail and scream. But some, like him, were simply moving through the crowd, the determination in their eyes mirroring his own.

Time no longer seemed to matter, and he quickly lost track. He didn't notice the chain dangling from his chest gradually shrinking, dissipating away like ash on the wind. The only thing Junichi could think about was finding Aiko.

Even when the weeping around him turned to screams, accompanied a horrible, echoing roar.

"_**Run away? Is that all you ants can think about? Running to save your pathetic lives? You're hardly worth eating like this!"**_

Junichi turned as the souls began scattering around him, and at each one he spared a glance to see if it might be Aiko. But she wasn't there… still not there…

"I won't let you harm them!"

"_**Think you can stop me, Shinigami?"**_

Where was she… where was she?!

He hardly acknowledged the fight, didn't even notice when the white-masked monster knocked the Shinigami out of the air and crushed the life out of him.

"_**Aaaah… that feels like a much tastier emotion. Not fear… what is that? Dedication? Ooo, I like this one."**_

Junichi stumbled as something slammed into his back, knocking him to the ground. His hair flopped in front of his eyes, but he couldn't move… there was something holding him down, pinning his arms to his sides. He struggled as something horribly dry and scaly, but covered in tiny burrs, crawled under his hair and shirt to rest on his spine.

Then he did scream, as whatever it was stung him a thousand times with burning needles.

"Oh, yes, oh yes! You truly are a determined fellow, aren't you. What are you thinking? Aiko? Aiko… a girl? What delicious emotions you have for her! Yes, you were definitely a good pick."

"Get off of me!" he screamed, his struggling tearing the skin on his back as the sharp spines dug into him. "Let me go!"

"_**When you are so tasty? Never. Besides, there's no point. You're not going to find her here."**_

That caught his attention. Still face-down, unable to see the thing pressing him into the dirt, he asked, "What do you mean?"

"_**Isn't it obvious? I already ate her."**_

Junichi froze.

"_**And she was a delicious meal as well. Full of emotion. Shall I tell you what her final thoughts were? She kept crying out for someone named Koichi. She was fearful she would never be able to admit how much she loved him, that she would never see him again. Koichi… is that you?"**_

Junichi was trembling, pain and betrayal searing through him. _It's lying, it's lying_, _it has to be lying!_

"_**It seems you aren't. What a shame, what a shame. Oh, but I do so like this new emotion of yours. Anger… I don't often taste it from my prey. Most common is fear, a truly boring emotion. No, I like this one."**_

"You killed her…"

"_**Ah, is it at me you direct this rage? How amusing. By all means, keep hating me."**_

The echoing words were accompanied with a deeper dig on the spines, but this time it wasn't that pain that made Junichi cry out again. It was the tearing, writhing, deadly teeth that were biting into his chain, grinding it to pieces. He could feel it as it disappeared, link by link. He could no longer hear the words of the monster above him, couldn't really hear anything over his screams.

_The bomb killed her…_

_This thing ate her…_

_She loved Koichi…_

...

The Hollow was happily drinking in the surge of emotion from its victim, enjoying every detail of it with an almost drunken glee. So it didn't notice the sudden rise in reiatsu, or the change in pitch of the scream. It _did_, however, notice when his victim suddenly disintegrated under its tentacled appendage.

"_**Eh?"**_

A Shinigami felt the sudden pressure and looked down, eyes widening as he spotted the familiar white spiritual particles began to gather some distance away. He knew, as did all Shinigami, that this was the final stage of some unfortunate Plus becoming a Hollow. He glanced back at his companions, darting here and there as they fought off the vulture-like Hollows, and jumped down to take care of this.

_If we don't get more reinforcements, more and more innocent souls are going to end up like this one. This entire thing is a tragedy like none I've seen…_

...

_Betrayal._

_Anger._

_Hatred._

The Hollow roared as he lashed his long tail from side to side, the emptiness inside him demanding he find something to fill it. More then that, though, a notion had come to him. He was very, very angry, and nothing would solve that like bringing down the same destruction that had torn _his_ life away on someone else.

He spotted his first prey some distance away, and from the feeling of rage that surged through him he figured that other Hollow would make satisfying prey.

He roared again, running cat-like across the dry, dead ground. The monstrous Hollow he had targeted looked up in surprise as he barreled into it, sinking all four claws into its hide and tearing into it as he scrambled up onto its back.

"_**Wha-"**_

With a single bite, he found his opponent's spine through its hide and gripped it in his strong jaws. Growling, he ripped it out.

_Satisfying, but not enough._

He pounced onto his screaming prey's head, burying his claws into its white mask. He snarled as he tore it free, shattering it into pieces. A moment later, he had torn out its throat with his teeth

_Still not enough._

He jumped off the other Hollow's disintegrating body to be faced by a black-robed Shinigami. He could practically feel the determination pouring from the Shinigami's eyes and sword.

_Not enough_.

The Shinigami may have had determination, but the Hollow had the driving will, no, the _need_ to destroy.

His need was stronger then this mediocre attempt at determination.

The cat-like Hollow tore through the Shinigami that had tried to kill him, and then onward, hunting the screaming souls around him as if they were mice. With each kill, he grew more and more dissatisfied. They weren't satisfying him. None of them were.

Instinct took over. He ripped a hole in the sky, opening into the blackness beyond. The other Hollows, _weaklings, all of them!_, were still fighting the Shinigami for the vulnerable souls down in the blast site. He didn't care to join them. It didn't matter. However long he stayed there, he couldn't satisfy the need for destruction that was haunting him. He needed something greater then the weak little prey available here.

He needed more power.

He wasn't sure where he was going in this grey desert he found himself in, but he could _feel_ the opponents here. They were stronger, at least. That made him smile, an expression that parted his pointed teeth in an especially unnerving way.

And Grimmjow darted off into the depths of Hueco Mundo, tail lashing behind him, to rain down destruction on whomever, or whatever, crossed his path.


	2. Daisuke

Daisuke carefully tied his narrow sash, picking up the sheathed sword that was leaning against the wall. His movements were smooth, almost mechanical as he slipped the sheath through his belt, then drew a cloak over his peasant's garb and raised the hood to shadow his face.

If the village lord wouldn't approve a search party to go after her, he would go himself. He wasn't going to leave her to her fate at the hands of those brigand scum. She was worth more then that…

He wasn't losing another loved one.

The young man slipped out into the night, leaving his small village behind. The danger of leaving the relative safety of those buildings at night was very real, as had been clearly demonstrated in the past month. Two men had been found dead, throats cut, who had wandered into the forest outside their walls, and three woman unfortunate enough, _stupid_ enough, to go out alone had disappeared. One had been missing for nearly four weeks, one for three…

And Yuki, taken just hours ago.

Daisuke moved silently as he crept through the forest. He was the closest thing the village had to a healer, and he had often traveled this forest in search of herbs for use in his potions. Silent movement was natural for him, and the darkness of the forest hardly hindered him. He knew he would not be detected, not unless the bandits had found someone surpassing even him in awareness.

He never missed anything, not even in the moonlit night, and he soon spotted a fragment of cloth caught on a bramble. He carefully removed it, feeling the smoothness of the cloth, the slight dampness on one side and the frayed ends. One dark eyebrow raised for a moment. She had torn it off with her teeth, and not too long ago.

She knew he was coming for her. Good.

She was all he had left, really. After his sister had died, Yuki had become the last living person he had ever felt anything for.

The other villagers were wary of him because of his lack of belief in their traditional ways, though that did not stop them from coming to him when they were ill. Yuki never looked at things like that, she had come to him wanting to learn his heart, find out who _he_ really was. And they had fallen in love.

And, despite the other villagers' disapproval, they had married.

Now she was gone, and he was _not_ going to let that stand. He was going to find her, rescue her, and take her far, far away. Find somewhere where their neighbors didn't know them, didn't scorn them, and where those lawless, honorless brigands wouldn't follow them.

His black cloak brushed against a bush, and he stopped, realizing that the underbrush was becoming too dense for him to continue while wearing the heavy cloth unless he wanted to risk being detected. He silently removed it, folding it and laying it aside. The chilly air made him shiver, but he ignored the discomfort and continued moving.

It was like that that he found the brigands camp, in a sheltered cave in the depths of the forest.

The men were not making much effort to hide their presence. Some were laughing, and it sounded like a heated argument was taking place as well. But, to Daisuke, the only sound he cared about was the crying voice of his wife.

His sword clicked slightly as it left its sheath, his finger trailing against the blunt edge as his eyes hardened. He looked into the fire-lit cave, saw the dark shapes of men moving to and fro.

"Die," he whispered, and like a ghost moved towards them.

The sentry at the cave's entrance was simple, one swift movement and his life was extinguished. And then Daisuke was inside the cave, katana diving forward to stab through another brigand's back, spearing right through his heart and out his chest.

He wasn't paying attention to the screams, or the threats and promises of death that followed. His analytical gaze flicked from intended victim to intended victim, calmly weaving through their attacks and returning his own, light but deadly.

He had not always been a healer.

The villagers were right to fear him.

"Daisuke!"

"Stop right there, healer!"

Daisuke turned, whipping his katana to the side to free it of blood. Roughly half of the brigand band, nearly half a dozen, lay around him, some groaning, others lying quietly in pools of their own blood. The others watched him warily, weapons held ready, though none with the casual elegance of the trained swordsman they faced.

But Daisuke's attention was held by the one that had Yuki by the hair, the blade of his sword at her vulnerable throat.

The brigand smirked as Daisuke froze, eyes narrowing.

"I thought as much. Now lower your weapon to the ground."

Daisuke didn't move, weighing methods of attack and possibilities.

"Daisuke!" yelped Yuki as the edge of the sword pressed against her throat. The brigand and Daisuke continued to read each other's eyes, then Daisuke gritted his teeth and slowly, cautiously, crouched down to lay his katana against the ground.

"Look out!" Yuki screamed suddenly, and Daisuke whirled, lashing out with his foot at the brigand who had been sneaking up on him. Someone cursed, and then Daisuke had his katana in hand and darting forward to take the nearest standing brigand through the throat. A moment later he had turned to block the sword of the brigand who had been holding Yuki, bracing his katana with his free hand.

A shadow falling over him was the only warning he had before something slammed against the side of his head, blurring the world and making him lose his balance. It didn't stop though, as he fell. He didn't seem to react as they beat him again and again, until eventually he lost the last thread of awareness and drifted off into unconsciousness.

Even there, though, he seemed to hear Yuki's sobs.

.

Daisuke blinked his eyes open, his head throbbing and vision blurred. His wrists and shoulders hurt, and he realized after a moment that that was because he was tied roughly to a small tree, arms wrenched in a very awkward position and tied brutally at the wrists.

"Daisuke, you're awake!"

He followed the sound of the voice, and spotted Yuki tied to the tree next to him. A quick glance revealed two guards nearby, watching them with apparent carelessness, but Daisuke knew they were on their guard.

"Are you alright?" asked Yuki, and he directed his attention back to her.

"Yes…" he said, though it was a lie. He felt horrible, his head, back and ribs all ached and throbbed, and he was worried about the continued fuzziness of his vision, and the fog that seemed to lay on his mind.

_Head injury… needs treatment._ "What about you, Yuki?"

She shrugged, as best she could while tied, and tried to smile. "I'm fine. I've just been so…"

Whatever she was going to say was cut off as one of the guards approached, glaring at Daisuke even though he was approaching Yuki.

"You're going to get it," he growled, then thrust a bowl of water at Yuki, redirecting his glare to her. "Drink, woman."

She glanced at Daisuke, then back that the guard. "Please, give my husband water first. He needs it more then me."

Daisuke's throat was burning, but he had the feeling the guard had no intention of giving him anything to drink. The guard seemed to be thinking the same thing, for he grabbed Yuki by the hair and jerked her head back, glare intensifying.

"You will drink, woman, or I'll make you."

"Not until you…" Yuki began to protest, then choked on her words as the guard mercilessly poured the water down her throat. Daisuke tensed against his bonds as she began to cough violently, straining to break the ropes that kept him from pouncing on her tormentor.

"You don't talk back to me," the brigand snarled, leaning in close to Yuki. "Next time you resist, it's going to be worse for you."

She was gasping when he let her go, chin dripping with water that she was still coughing from her lungs. The guard noticed Daisuke's hate-filled glare and his eyebrows lowered slightly.

"What are you looking at?" he asked, walking over and repeating his actions with Yuki, grabbing Daisuke's black hair and forcing him to look up into his eyes. "You're in no position to threaten me like that."

Daisuke merely glared, and with a curse the guard released him, then drove a fist into Daisuke's stomach. The smaller man nearly doubled over, shoulders wrenching further as he gasped at the pain, his already damaged ribs protesting the abuse.

"I'm going to enjoy watching you die," hissed the guard, and then turned and stalked away. Daisuke ignored his threat, and Yuki's whispers of worried encouragement, he simply couldn't find the energy to spare.

It hurt enough just trying to breathe.

By the next day, Daisuke could hardly speak through his dry throat and mouth, and the sunlight seemed to burn right into his brain through his eyes, so he avoided it as best he could, with closed eyes and averted head. He only opened them when he heard a guard approaching again, and then only narrowly, just enough to see by.

""Drink, woman."

"Daisuke needs…"

Her words became a yelp as the guard slapped her across the face, then grabbed her hair again, forcing her head back.

"Drink!"

Daisuke closed his eyes again, and merely listened as Yuki protested and the guard again poured the water down her throat, resulting in another fit of intense coughing. He wasn't at all surprised when the guard turned to him, using the battered, tied swordsman as an outlet of his frustration before walking angrily away again.

"Daisuke…" Yuki whispered a minute later, her words cutting through the haze of pain and confusion that was clouding Daisuke's mind. "I'm afraid."

He winked one eye open and looked at her, then closed his eye again. _I know,_ he thought, but didn't say anything. Didn't even try. He knew he wouldn't be able to manage it, and his inability would only alarm her more.

And yet, the words stayed in his head.

_I'm afraid._

_._

He wasn't sure what it was that made him wake up. He had been sleeping, and this time it had been actually restful. Such a shame to ruin it, but even as he opened his eyes he realized he wouldn't have woken up unless it was important. He trusted his own instincts in these things.

He looked over and saw Yuki sleeping fitfully, whimpering in her sleep and flinching away as if fleeing from some dark dream. He reached over and touched her shoulder, intending to comfort her, when he realized that something was very wrong.

He was no longer tied to the tree. He couldn't feel Yuki's shoulder.

He couldn't breathe.

He jerked back, away from her, and something tugged at his chest, as if there was a chain connecting them that tightened as he pulled away. Actually, he realized as he looked down, that was exactly what it was. A narrow chain, attached to a small plate of metal in his chest, trailed from him to her, curling around her leg up to the knee.

"Yuki…" he breathed, and then put a hand against the tree to steady himself as he struggled to breathe. He looked at his hand, wondering why he could feel the tree when he couldn't feel Yuki, and jerked back again, tripping in his haste and falling to the ground, chain clattering after him.

_What…?!_

He saw himself, still tied to the tree, head hanging limply towards his chest. That version of himself wasn't moving, not at all. Not even breathing.

Daisuke looked at his chest again, and then at his hand, clutching at the ground as a steadying point. Slowly, the pieces clicked together.

_Did I just… die?_

Slowly, his more practical side took over, and he carefully approached his own, limp body. He had to do his examination by sight alone, which was irritating, but he quickly determined that he was, indeed, dead. He denied the momentary flash of fear that threatened him at that realization and looked around, trying to decide what to do now.

"What _can_ I do?" he whispered, looking again at Yuki, and the chain still wrapped around her leg. He couldn't leave her, he had never been able to before in life and couldn't now in death. But what could he _do_ now? He was dead. She wouldn't be able to hear him… see him… he couldn't let her know he was still there…

A hopelessness at his situation suddenly choked him, and he sank to ground, chest tightening and eyes beginning to burn. He was _dead_. He couldn't do a thing to help her now.

"Yuki…"

.

"Drink, woman."

And she drank. Mechanically, emotionlessly, her eyes dull with no tears left to make them sparkle. She drank what they offered and she ate what they shoved at her, and at night she listened to their plans with no emotion left in her to spare on fear.

The brigands had sent their demands to the village. The village had not responded. Her time was almost up.

If there was one emotion her plight hadn't drained from her, it was hatred. Somewhere deep inside, she hated these men, hated them for capturing her, hated them for torturing her, hated them for killing Daisuke…

The spirit, sitting on a branch of the tree she was tied to, could feel that hatred radiating from her soul, traveling into him through the chain that connected them. It hurt, like a knife in his heart. He didn't like it that she hated, and he had no idea why he didn't like it, but he wanted it to stop.

_Why am I tied to her, again? _

He fingered the fragile chain in his chest, eyes downcast as he thought. She was the cause of the pain, he was certain of it. Her hatred was crushing his heart, and this chain was letting her do it. So… what if the chain wasn't there?

He twisted his finger around the chain, feeling as if he could break it if he wanted to. It seemed like it would be so easy, but something made him hesitate. There had to be a reason _why_ he was chained to this woman. To break the chain… it might stop the pain, but then what? He might ruin his chance of learning _why_.

His eyes traveled along the chain, finally stopping on the woman. He examined her, noting without pity the broken posture, the helpless, hopeless state, the dull eyes.

_This is not a person I need to be tied down to._

His fingers tightened, and the chain snapped.

The pain did not stop, it only intensified.

.

A roar shattered the otherwise peaceful semi-silence of the forest, a reverberating bellow that was more then half wail and no one could really hear.

Yuki glanced up, her dull eyes scanning the area. She didn't know what it was that sent a shiver down her spine, or the sudden tight feeling in her chest. She just knew there was something horribly, horribly wrong.

Then one of the brigands guarding her screamed, lurching forward. Yuki's eyes widened as he was literally _ripped_ in half, dark blood raining to the ground. Her breath caught as he fell, and the other guard bolted upright, eyes wide in terror.

He was next to die, stabbed through the chest by something none of them could see.

"What... is this...?" she gasped quietly as the other brigands rushed out of their cave to investigate... and meet the same fate as their companions.

This time, however, against the darkness of the cave and by the faint, faint light of the sliver moon, she saw something as the first brigand fell, something that flashed through the air in front of him moments before his chest was sliced open. She tried to follow it with her eyes, but it blurred against the forest and disappeared again.

It was almost as if this thing wasn't fully there, as if it didn't quite belong in this world.

She heard a faint crack, and one of the confused, half-asleep brigands was yanked off his feet, yelping in fear. A moment later he was slammed to the ground again, the snap of bones painfully audible. Yuki could only stare in horror as the unseen assailant tore through the remaining brigands, finishing the job her husband had started nearly a week before.

And then she was alone, tied to a tree with dead men scattered all around her, killed by something she could barely sense.

She did hear the rush of wind, the faint snap of wings, and she saw a faint outline, blurred by darkness, as the thing settled onto a branch above her. She stared up at where she thought the thing perched, terror replacing the void in her emotions that had been consuming her for the past week.

"Are you afraid... woman?"

She heard the uncaring, reverberating voice, and something nearly broke inside of her. Her eyes widened.

"D...Daisuke..." she breathed, and she thought she saw a flash of green in the blurred area above her.

"Are you afraid?" she was asked again, and the weight on the branch disappeared. Then those green eyes were in front of her, peering at her with something that might have been curiosity, but certainly nothing beyond that.

"Daisuke, it's me," Yuki said, trying desperately to find a semblance of familiarity in those blank eyes. "It's Yuki."

Said eyes disappeared for a moment, and she thought she heard a faint sigh. Then something speared into her throat, in a single instant crushing her windpipe and spine, nearly hitting the tree behind her.

"You are afraid," breathed that familiar, but horribly cold voice. "You are nothing but trash after all."

Yuki couldn't even gasp as she died, her vision blurring even as the creature before her became more real. The last thing she saw was a long, whip-like white tail flicking past her face, a pale claw dripping with her own blood, and the blank eyes of the monster, the exact same shade as those of her dead husband.

There were many spirits for him to devour that evening, all too confused to even know what had happened to them. They were easy additions to his strength.

And, for some reason, it made his chest burn. There was emptiness inside him, a hollowness he needed desperately to fill, but there was also a horrible sensation in his chest that made him shudder. And it wouldn't stop.

He hunted to fill the emptiness, and with each kill the spot in his chest hurt more. He stopped hunting to try and make the pain stop, and the emptiness threatened to destroy him.

And so he continued hunting human spirits, and when that became too painful for him, he devoured others of his own kind. And as his strength grew, the pain slowly began to fade away, until the day came when all that remained was the emptiness.

He never did notice the acid tears that were forever dripping from his eyes, or the blood that flowed from the hole in his chest. He never realized that the pain that had once made him cry was the pain of a Hollow whose heart had never completely destroyed itself, a thing constantly bleeding and never healing. Nor did he realize, the day he became dominant over a thousand Hollow souls, that that bleeding heart had finally given up.

But it didn't vanish completely. Centuries later, he found it again, staring at it from between pale, ashen fingers, in the palm of one that wasn't afraid.


End file.
